


well you're slim and you're weak

by heybeavis (orphan_account)



Category: Bandom, Metallica
Genre: Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, Frottage, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Roughhousing, Tickling, apparently i really like to make cliff nut his pants ok, boys gettin stoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/heybeavis
Summary: “Why? You ticklish?” Cliff asked slyly, his fingers creeping back up his sides.James squirmed again “N-No! I’m not!” he replied defensively. Like Cliff would believe that for a second.
Relationships: Cliff Burton/James Hetfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	well you're slim and you're weak

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my sudden fixation on the adorable torture of a tickling kink, and by (yet again) my partner in crime and #1 enabler, Axel. I'm also realizing this is the second Cliff/James coming-in-pants fic I've written. A very interesting fetish I apparently have . . .  
> Title is from 'Get It On' by T. Rex.

Cliff and James sit in James’ room alone, as per their usual weekend activities. They rambled nonsense and jokes at each other, only pausing to pluck at their instruments or take a rip off of Cliff’s bong. 

The boys were just beginning to feel the effects of the weed when Cliff took a crack at James’ guitar playing-- he kept messing up the opening riff to Thin Lizzy’s “Whiskey in the Jar,” while Cliff nailed the whole bassline in three or four tries.

“Dude, have you ever actually picked up a guitar?” Cliff teased, his eyes hooded as he lit another bowl and gazed at James hunched over his Explorer next to him. James was a damn good guitarist, but there weren’t a whole lot of things in general that Cliff wouldn’t tease his friends about.

“Shut up, man,” he grumbled half-heartedly, shoving Cliff’s shoulder. Cliff giggled at the contact, the heady sensation of pot and James making him float just a little. 

“Don’t fuckin’ push me,” he playfully shot back, giving James’ thigh a punch in return. James’ leg jerked away, and he flung the hair off his shoulder to look up at Cliff, mischief in his eyes.  
He grinned, setting his guitar against Cliff’s nightstand and getting in Cliff’s face. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked cockily, his hands coming up to push at Cliff’s shoulders. Oh, it was on. 

“Yeah,” Cliff said, smiling just as impishly. He grabbed James’ wrists and pushed him away from his own chest, making his back hit the headrest of Cliff’s bed. James released his wrists from Cliff’s hold and outstretched his arms to shove Cliff again, which proved to be counterproductive when Cliff simply pinned his wrists above his head and scooted closer into his space. 

Cliff was dangerously close to straddling James’ thighs, crowding against him until their chests brushed together. Cliff obviously had the upper hand, looking down at James from where he was up on his knees. The pause let them catch their breath, and James’ arms went limp in Cliff’s grasp. 

When Cliff released his wrists, his calloused hands fell to James’ sides, barely covered by his low-cut TSOL shirt. It was normal for the boys to touch like this, they had been friends for years and were naturally physically affectionate anyways, but James jerked away once again from Cliff’s touch. 

“Stop,” he breathed out, his smile returning. 

“Why? You ticklish?” Cliff asked slyly, his fingers creeping back up his sides.

James squirmed again “N-No! I’m not!” he replied defensively. Like Cliff would believe that for a second.

“Oh, okay. So, you wouldn’t mind if I did . . . this?” Cliff attacked his ribcage, using feather-light touches in rapid succession to make James squirm even more. Cliff could make out James begging him to stop his torture in beween fits of laughter, but he ignores them. This was entirely too much fun.

Amidst the playfulness, Cliff paused for a moment to really look at James. His tank top was askew, his hair was spread out in a curly blond halo around him, his face was red and his eyes were teary. His chest heaved, and his grin had turned from shit-eating to bright and warm from laughter. God, he’s beautiful, Cliff realized. 

James wasn’t looking at Cliff, his head was turned to the side almost as if to bury his face in his shoulder. Cliff decided to take advantage of his surrender in a much less sinister way; he traced gentle touches along the flat pane of James stomach, again making him gasp and writhe. This time, however, James’ gasp turned into a sigh, which turned shaky and shuddering, which became a gentle moan. 

Cliff continued his caresses, neither boy saying anything out of fear of breaking the spell that had settled over them. Cliff noticed James grab onto the headboard behind him, snaking his hands up the bedframe and leaving his underarms exposed. He finally spared a glance at Cliff, realizing how close their faces were when he felt Cliff’s long, fiery hair against his collarbone.  
Cliff was fucking ethereal-- his hair had loosened from where it was usually tucked behind his ears to cascade down his shoulders. He watched his hands roam James’ torso like he was afraid James would get up and walk away.

Whatever Cliff was doing with his fingers probably couldn’t be classified as tickling anymore. Cliff’s open pams caresses up and down the pale length of James’ slender torso, ceasing James’ desperate moaning before he could really embarrass himself. 

The tranquility didn’t last for long, thought. Cliff andJames’ eyes met finally, and Cliff smirked lightly before beginning to once again lay a brutal attack on James’ ribcage, tracing up to his armpits and across his stomach.

James’ moaning had returned at full force, his giggles for Cliff to stop had turned into meaningless chants of his name and pleasepleaseplease. Cliff was utterly transfixed-- it was as if he had an angel writhing under him. He never wanted this to end.

Cliff’s hands roamed faster, almost scratching James, and James’ voice increased in volume and desperation until his hips started to twitch the slightest bit on their own. 

James was hard as a rock by now, and with that knowledge, so was Cliff. Cliff’s merciless tickling has never ceased, but he fully situated himself on James’ long thighs to grind himself onto his lap, slowly and firmly. Delicate skin against rough denim coupled with a hard surface to rut against felt fucking incredible to both of the boys.

Feeling bold, Cliff bent down to kiss James’ neck. The smooth, pale column of his throat was incredibly tempting, and Cliff wanted nothing more than to leave him marked up for days. He licked and sucked at James’ outstretched neck, leaving tender, red-purple bruises in his wake. 

James arched against his mouth, letting out a breathy yelp. Cliff had noticed how little James tried to resist being held down a while ago, and he decided to test how far he could take that. James’ arms hadn’t moved from above his head, but Cliff took both of his skinny wrists into one huge hand, pinning them against the headboard for good. James cried out again, his hips canting up. 

Cliff ground his hips down more insistently, his attention evenly divided on getting James off and making sure he stays breathless and overstimulated with his free hand continuing to roam his lithe body. 

Before long, Cliff could tell James was getting close. He felt the erratic twitch of his hips, how the noises he was making went from surprised and breathy to a continuous stream of low moans and puppy-like whimpers. 

“Cliff, shit, fuck, I’m-“ he started. Cliff cut him off by sealing their lips together. He swallowed up all James’ sounds, modestly keeping his lips parted only slightly. 

“Yeah, you gonna come, babe? Come on, James, I’ve got you,” he said against James’ mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, been wantin’ this for months.”

“Yes, please, ohmygod, Cliff,” he almost sounded like a chick, and he hung on to Cliff’s shoulders for dear life as he raised his hips to meet his. 

Cliff growled low in his throat, snaking his hands to the small of James’ back. James lost it then, the feeling of Cliff surrounding his every sense and sending him to cloud fucking nine. 

Cliff pulled back to watch James’ face as he came. His eyes rolled back and then fluttered shut, his mouth opening in a perfect O-shape before his eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip. 

Cliff had really, honestly, never seen anything as beautiful. He let out a few more expletives before his release, letting James continue to rock against him and pant hotly into his mouth. Cliff would take that single image of James’ blissed out face over every issue of Playboy ever made. 

As they both came down from their orgasmic highs, reality set in for James. he opened his mouth to say something, feeling suspiciously content. Knowing his luck, he was probably about to wake up from a dream or something.

Seeing his frantic expression, Cliff gently cupped his jaw. “Hey,” he began. “You okay?” His question was soft, vague enough to let James get over his mild crisis before he answered. “It’s okay, man,” Cliff continued. “You’re okay.”

James looked up at him, his eyes wide. “Yeah.” he responded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t weird or anything, dude. Honestly, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen for a while.” Cliff spoke as if talking to a frightened animal. 

James nodded firmly. “Yeah. Yeah.”

He paused again. Cliff started to worry that he’d done something wrong, that he’d overstepped, that he’d jeopardized their friendship.

Then, James spoke again. “I love you, Cliff. Always have.”

Cliff’s heart was about to explode. James could probably hear it beating. “I love you too, James.”

James smiled, one of his rare smiles that didn’t mean mischief or follow a bad joke. Cliff kissed him.


End file.
